Page 37 of Stolen Slave

He noticed.

Oh, did he notice.

He paused his rubbing to roll one nipple between his fingertips gently. It felt amazing, sending an echoing throb between my legs. I swallowed hard, and my breath caught when he released that one and rubbed the other breast. Again my nipple pebbled at his first touch, and he rolled it between his fingers, feeding the growing ache between my legs.

He released the second one before I could tell him to stop and went back to rubbing in the not-cleanser. It didn’t matter. The ache was there, and I knew what was coming as he slowly worked his way lower.

My breathing was as erratic as my pulse when his fingers skimmed my pubic hair. I wantonly widened my stance to give him better access.

He said something, smoothing his hand over my hip, before passing my fun zone by and working his way down my legs.

I kind of wanted to pull the white hair from his head, then realized what I was doing. How messed up was I? I had no idea what this wash-and-rub was for, and there I was, horning after the guy. For all I knew, he was old. Or celibate. Or not interested in a human female. Or maybe he really did think I was a pet.

The point was that I didn’t know what was happening and needed to keep my hormones in check until I did understand.

He finished my feet, and when he rose, he offered me his hand. I slipped my fingers into his and tried not to think of the empty throb in my core.

Following him to the bench, I waited until he was seated, then hesitated, unsure how he wanted me to sit on him. The fact that I was hoping for another round of face-to-face sitting worried me. Shouldn’t the idea of that freak me out?

The lines of what was right and wrong were getting blurry when it came to Khorahn. I wanted to tell myself it was because he was alien and that I couldn’t expect him to live by the same rules I had my whole life. But in my gut, I knew that wasn’t true. If he were one of those creepy snake dick guys with the hard shells, I would not be okay with lap-sitting. Ever.

Even if they acted like Khorahn? my mind whispered.

And that right there was the key. For whatever reason, I had a different set of rules for the alien before me. Undeniably, he’d done stuff I wasn’t okay with. Yet, in the end, I was always…okay with it.

Even now, the idea of straddling his lap didn’t upset me. Quite the opposite.

“Is this cuddle time, or are you planning on washing my bits for me again?” I asked bluntly when he made no move to reach for me.

He patted his knees, giving me no indication of which way he wanted me. But I knew what I wanted. It probably wasn’t smart, but I was so tired of being afraid and worrying and just wanted to feel good. And when I let him, Khorahn helped me feel that way.

So I swung a leg over his and slid into place facing him.

He blinked at me and spread his knees. My breathing, which had calmed slightly, picked up again in anticipation. However, he didn’t reach between us even though his top cock was right there, and I was wide open for another helping of not-cleanser.

I looked at him, wondering what he was waiting for, and noticed tiny striations near the center of his eyes. Excited, I grabbed his face between my hands and leaned in even closer.

“You have irises. And a pupil, I think. It’s all the same color. Wow. That is crazy. Here I was, wondering what you were looking at.” I smiled at him, holding his gaze. “You’re looking right at me.”

He didn’t move or say anything as I continued to study his eyes. Then his brows. He gripped my waist when I straightened on his lap and started inspecting his ears. The rumbling laugh sound told me I amused him instead of offending him, which was a good thing since I didn’t want to stop.

His ears were crazy soft and flicked like a cat’s when I touched them. I grinned and kept going, figuring he would tell me to cut it out if he didn’t like it. He didn’t seem to mind, though, as I gently explored each one. They were more pliable than mine but still felt like cartilage.

He truly was interesting.

And handsome. I’d noticed when he’d been working out in his crazy gym. Something about a guy doing inverted push-ups did things to a girl.

Settling back on his thighs, I ran my hands over his shoulders and down his arms, unable to deny he had an incredible physique.

My gaze drifted from his arms to his abs, then lower. I leaned back a little farther and hesitantly gestured at his groin.

“Where I’m from, we only have one,” I said, holding up a finger. “Not two.” I shook my head for emphasis.

He looked from my fingers to his dual babymakers, his brows lifting. Then he grinned at me.

“It’s really not that funny. Although, I guess we could turn the tables. What if your females only had one breast, and here I am with two? Come to think of it, you haven’t freaked out at all about the way I look. I have to be just as alien to you as you are to me.”

He smoothed his hand down my arm in that reassuring way he had, oblivious to my line of thinking.

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